Taking the Shame out of the Short Bus

My six year old son is on the Autism spectrum. He attends a special kindergarten program geared to fit his needs. His kindergarten classroom is located in the same building as all the other kindergarten rooms for the district and his is one of a handful of Autistic or Special Needs kindergartens provided by the school district. Still, because of the hours of his program he is provided with "special transportation". So, every day, the so-called "short bus" takes him to and from school.

Let me begin by sharing that riding on the bus is a huge accomplishment for many children on the Autism spectrum, my son included. The bus has been more than a battle for us. My little guy has at times been known to fight the good fight and out and out go on strike about riding on the bus. Because of sensory issues the bus can be more than overwhelming, and an outright terrifying experience. The bus is loud, kids sing on the bus, the bus is bumpy, and the carseats on the bus are not the same as in "Mommy's car". For almost an entire year of preschool we struggled each and every day to get my son onto the bus without a major meltdown. Some mornings it might take 2 or more adults, blood curdling screams and tears that are certainly not of the crocodile variety - and still some days we met with a failure. This year, we've gotten lucky all but a handful of days and he's ridden the bus willingly.

Still, I remember one morning that my son wouldn't get on the bus. It was really cold out, late November and he layed down in the middle of my front yard screaming and crying out along the lines of "NO BUS!".. "NO BUS, Please!". I was frustrated, tired, and most of all hurting for him. And, then I looked up and saw neighbors looking out their window watching the scene. And then, my feelings changed towards shame. Shame for my child's behavior. I felt the need to apologize for my son. But, he hadn't done anything wrong. He was engaging in a behavior, which is something that kids like him do. The only shameful behaviour taking place that morning was that of the people looking out their windows as if there was some sort of special event taking place.

This year I've watched as the "normal" kids get on and off their bus to and from their 1/2 day kindergarten program. One day one of the mothers asked me, "Isn't your son in Kindergarten?". I responded, "Yes". And she in turn responded by asking me "What is wrong with my son that he rides on the handicapped bus". I was taken aback both by her phrasing of it, and the fact that she asked me this right in front of her child and other children who were awaiting their bus pick-up. I felt hurt for my child who is being described as "something wrong with him". My son rides a bus to and from school, just like their children do. His bus has less seats in it and a higher ratio of adults to kids. I've also heard that the bus drivers who drive the so-called "short bus" are higher paid, for what that is worth.

Our house happens to be on the corner, so we have the bus stop kiddy corner from our front yard. Another "difference" is that my son gets picked up and dropped off at the end of our driveway since the school provides him with "door to door" service. Having Door-To-Door service is for safety reasons, because my son is a runner. If he were to be dropped off at the "regular" bus stop, then we would need to cross a busy street where cars sometimes don't stop (even with a stopped school bus, sadly) and very close to a major road. His "special" bus stop is for safety reasons. Where is the shame in that? There is none.

Ironically, all of the buses for K-12 stop right at the intersection where my local police have put up a sign indicating "Autistic Child in Area". The sign was put up because of my child and a few others in the neighborhood to signal cars to slow down. The sign is right there in front of their eyes.. And still, they look... and they point, and they whisper. He's the child who rides the short bus and gets dropped off at the end of his driveway instead of the corner. See those signs, they are about him. How many times, I've driven past the signs and averted my eyes.

It would be very easy for me to want to shelter my son and avoid the bus situation all around. I could drive him every day therefore avoiding the "short bus" stigma all around. And, my son wouldn't have to conquer any bus fears or issues. That might sound like a winning situation all around, right? The part of me who yearns to shelter my son, and avoid confrontation on any and all accounts would consider this an acceptable option. Because, it's the easy way out.

I decided that it isn't what I want for my child. I want my son to be able to ride the bus to and from school, regardless of the size of the bus. Simply getting on the bus each and every day is a huge accomplishment for him and I need to be proud of him and be thankful for each day that he gets on without a fight. And if he fights and doesn't get on, that happens and is OK too. Whether his bus is long or short - who cares? Its not the size of the bus, but whether he gets on or off without a fight that matters to me!

When people make comments that I perceive as hurtful, instead of crumpling away hurt I need to take that opportunity to educate them. Its about growing thicker skin, and making a point of sharing with them openly about my child's differences. What I've come to understand is that its all a matter of perception. I like to present the school bus issues (including the short bus/big bus, different bus stops, and the sign on the corner) all in the interest of safety. I want my son to get to and from school safely just like they want their child to get to and from school safely. Where is there shame in safety? Answer me that...

This is a re-post of an article that I posted here